Crossing the Line
by Miska
Summary: Fluffy one-shot vignette. They say there's a fine line between hatred and love...and Lily's feelings for James just might have crossed over ;-) Please RR!


**Author's Note: Although I've been reading HP fan fiction for a few months, this is my first attempt at actually writing it, so be kind! A huge thank you goes out to all the authors in my Favorites list because their work is such an inspiration, and don't forget to review!!**

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I took a deep breath, mentally counted to ten, and paused at the entrance to the Great Hall. My friend Rachel glanced at me inquisitively, as if to inquire whether I was all right after that morning's drama in our room, and I nodded briefly. _Just don't show him it bothers you_, I coached myself. My little monologue continued as I pushed open the heavy doors and strode in for breakfast. _Chin up…good, now smile…all right, here goes. _I was tired of screaming at James Potter in front of an interested audience after one of his pranks. This time would be different. I had promised myself that I wouldn't let my annoyance show.

I quickened my pace just a bit as we walked by the table where he sat with his inseparable friends, praying that he wouldn't say anything to me…the less interaction between us, the more likely I was to lose my infamous temper, make a spectacle, and embarrass us both. However, Potter has never done anything sensible, and he didn't disappoint me now.

"Morning, Evans," he called in that insufferably cheerful tone. A thousand horrible responses flashed into my mind but, true to my vow to take the high road, I ignored him and kept walking. Any intelligent person would have taken the rather obvious hint and stopped right there.

"Sleep well, Evans?" I stopped in my tracks and stared at the wall for a second before deciding to screw the high road. Slowly turning, I fixed Potter with a murderous glare.

"I don't know…how would_ you_ sleep if someone had bewitched all the devices in your room to go off at three in the morning and hung netting all over your bed so that you got tangled in it when you woke up," here my voice was rising and I could feel my face flushing with anger, "and then put a silencing spell on your room so that no one would hear you and your roommates screaming?" By now that insufferable prat and his friends were laughing hysterically and I was practically shaking with fury. It had been a long, horrible week, and just when I had been looking forward to some rest and peace on Sunday, he had decided to pull another of his horrible pranks.

"Come off it Evans, we were just having some fun." At his last word, a low shriek of fury escaped me and I took several steps towards him.

"Fun? Why don't you go snog some bloody airhead for fun and leave me the hell alone?!"

"Language, Evans," he smirked. "Who would have guessed you had it in you? You're usually as cold as the Potions dungeon." Ah, the Ice Queen argument. I knew where this one was going, and I felt my temper rising even higher. Consequences be damned, he was _not_ going to get the last word here!

"And what, you think you're the one to apply some heat?" I asked scornfully. A slow, suggestive smile suffused his face.

"I could be, if you ask nicely enough…"

Fed up with our verbal sparring, I leaned closer to James and spoke in a low voice to keep my voice from shaking. He must have caught a glimpse of the tears I was trying so hard to suppress, because the grin immediately slid off his face.

"You make me sick, Potter. You've crossed the line." With that, I turned on my heel and walked, slowly, with dignity, back to my room. I have never been one of those girls who cry in public, but I will admit that once back in my room I took a good deal of satisfaction in slamming the thick oak door and throwing myself on my still unmade bed in the midst of our still chaotic room.

_The perfect ending to a miserable week_, I thought glumly. I'd been at home on spring holiday, and while I usually love seeing my parents and at least enjoy teasing Petunia at the very best, this holiday was different. The house was in a frenzy because of Petunia's upcoming wedding, and my parents and my sister were becoming increasingly excited. To be honest, so was I- I'd been waiting to get her out of the house for years. But the frequent bridesmaid dress fittings (have I ever mentioned how much I DETEST the color orange? Petunia's chosen it as the theme for her wedding.) and nonstop talk about guests, decorations, and music had me completely on edge.

Finally, towards the end of the week, I'd realized that we'd been assigned an essay for Potions, to be due on the day we got back. This had caused me to cut my break short and come back to school earlier in order to work on it. My train had been late, and when I'd finally stumbled into my dormitory at one o'clock on Sunday morning I had promised myself to sleep in until noon and work on the essay all that afternoon. And when I'd been awoken only two hours later by James Potter's lovely (and I mean that in the most sarcastic way possible) prank, my mood had scarcely improved.

_It's a lot for anyone to handle, _I argued with myself as the tears started to roll down my freckled cheeks. C_rying is a perfectly normal reaction. _

I mean who did Potter think he was? Everyone knows his reputation- despite declaring his undying affection for yours truly at least twice a day, he has a different girlfriend for each day of the week, and very few Hogwarts girls can withstand his charm. I have often wondered if James goes after other girls in the same way he goes after me- teasing them unmercifully and pulling cruel pranks- and if so, what that says about the intelligence of the female Hogwarts population.

And it's not as if I've encouraged him or ever showed any inclination to ever go out with him. We're complete opposites: he's the heir to a wizard fortune and represents one of the purest-blooded families around, and I'm the first wizard in my Muggle family in at least three generations. He and his friends are notorious pranksters who flagrantly disregard authority, and I have a reputation for abiding by the rules. While it's true that we both make extremely high marks, he does everything last minute and I work hard for my marks. And added to that is the small fact that I completely despise him! He and his friends take advantage of the first years, make life miserable for the Slytherins, and disrupt every class they're in. And every time I remember that time at the end of 5th year when Potter and his friends tormented poor Snape, I really do feel sick.

A knock on the door interrupted my ruminations on Potter's many faults, and assuming it was Rachel coming up to see where I'd gone, I didn't move from my place on my bed and called that the door was open. But instead of Rachel's sympathetic squeal and the sound of her rushing over to hug me, all I heard was a very masculine clearing of the throat. I glanced up…

…and into James Potter's hazel eyes.

My shock at that moment rendered me completely speechless- a circumstance which is usually quite uncommon for me. He was standing at the door to our room looking distinctly uncomfortable, and if it had been anyone other than Potter I would have thought that the look in those eyes resembled remorse; however since it _was _Potter I concluded that he must have eaten something at breakfast that disagreed with him. After the first awkward meeting of our eyes, his gaze fell to the chaos in our room, which Rachel and I had been too exhausted to clean up when we woke this morning.

Making my way over to Potter across the jungle of torn netting, books, and suitcases would have been impossible, so I grabbed my wand and muttered a quick spell that soon had everything flying about to its proper place. Avoiding the clothes and furniture hurtling through the room, I picked my way over to him, grabbed him by the arm, and pulled him out into the corridor. Once we were standing face-to-face my speechlessness disappeared, only to be replaced by fury.

"How did you get up here and what in bloody hell could you possibly want?" He looked uncomfortable again- twice in one day!- and fidgeted, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you first…and actually, I came up here to apologize." You could have knocked me down with a feather after this announcement, and I searched his face for some signs of another prank. Was this the part where I reentered my room and found all the furniture upside down or something? Taking no pains to hide my skepticism, I found myself slipping into the sarcastic banter that was common between us.

"Well then you'd better get it over with so you can go terrorize someone else." Potter looked a bit disappointed- probably that I hadn't fallen into his arms at the first signs of him acting like a decent person- but continued nonetheless.

"When I convinced Sirius and Remus and Peter to pull the prank on you, I had no idea that it would…upset you so much. I know I can be a prick sometimes but I really didn't realize... I guess what I'm trying to say is…I'm sorry." I felt the tears start to my eyes again at his unexpectedly nice act, and since the last thing I wanted to do was cry in front of Potter twice in one day_I just_ nodded briefly and turned to reenter my room.

"Wait," he said, laying a hand on my arm. At the quizzical lift of my eyebrows, he continued. "You haven't accepted my apology." I sighed heavily

"Apology accepted, Potter. Now may I leave?" Suddenly I was tired- and somehow I doubted that it had to do with my lack of sleep. I was tired of our mutual disgust for each other- well, disgust on my side at least; who knew what went on in Potter's twisted mind- and this feud that had been going on for far too long but that neither of us knew how to end.

"Well, actually, I just wanted to ask you something." The uncomfortable look was back again. "I was wondering…I mean, we've played pranks on you dozens of times, and loads of them have been worse than this, and you've never…I mean, what is it that…"

"What was it about this prank that made me cry?" I interrupted when it seemed that he was floundering for words. He nodded, and I sighed again. There was no way he could possibly understand. "It's been a long week, and I've been at home and everything there is just so-" Horrified, I caught myself just in time. If I opened up to Potter about my family I would never hear the end of it. "Like I said," I amended quickly, "it's been a long week and I just can't find the energy to put up with your insufferable…_prattiness_ right now." He winced at my stinging tone.

"I guess I deserved that…but listen, Evans…I know that you've always hated me and everything, but if you do ever need anything…well…er, you know where to find me, all right?" Surprised beyond words, I nodded. As he turned to leave, it was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I didn't really hate him- I just thought he could be a bit of a stuck up, egotistical prat sometimes- but fortunately I stopped myself before really making an idiot out of myself. Instead, I found myself voicing a question I'd long wondered but never expected to really ask him.

"Potter-" He stopped but didn't turn around, probably out of fear that I would scorn his remarkably thoughtful offer or use it as an opportunity to make fun of him. "You could- and do- have almost any girl in Hogwarts…they're all absolutely crazy about you. And I…strongly dislike you. So why do you bother with me?" At my question, he glanced over his shoulder at me, and the old Potter grin came back out as he answered.

"Because you're cute when you get angry."

And as he walked away, I noticed that for once, that smirk of his failed to bother me.


End file.
